The colors of the corridor - steel gray and matte blue and black and scorch marks - bleed together like spilled paint.
But Faith stays still. Cogent. Together. Terrifying with her yellow eyes.
Mal's screams get cut off as one...two...three fingers lose their grip on the edge of the bulkhead before going into space.
Four...
Five.
Mal writhes in his bunk, sweating, not occurring to him until much later that he had completely stripped the bed in his sleep. His back is on fire; he stands as soon as he thinks he won't fall down to go to the mirror and look at his back.
Intact. Whole. Still scarred.
Mal stares at his bunk with disdain and fear. His mind darts to Shuttle One, where he hasn't slept for the past week. He hasn't told Inara why. She can never know.
no subject
The colors of the corridor - steel gray and matte blue and black and scorch marks - bleed together like spilled paint.
But Faith stays still. Cogent. Together. Terrifying with her yellow eyes.
Mal's screams get cut off as one...two...three fingers lose their grip on the edge of the bulkhead before going into space.
Four...
Five.
Mal writhes in his bunk, sweating, not occurring to him until much later that he had completely stripped the bed in his sleep. His back is on fire; he stands as soon as he thinks he won't fall down to go to the mirror and look at his back.
Intact. Whole. Still scarred.
Mal stares at his bunk with disdain and fear. His mind darts to Shuttle One, where he hasn't slept for the past week. He hasn't told Inara why. She can never know.
I am too weak.